Irresistible
by Mikey Parkas
Summary: If he can't be brilliant, he may as well grace the world with his sexiness.


I am in the middle of another, more serious fic, but I needed a break. Got bored and decided to explore the world of Chase just a little bit. Please, R & R. If you don't already know my review policy, it's anyone who reviews gets jello. Oh boy…

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me. Fox and them television folks have that honour. However, if they were willing to part with him, I'd pay a mighty high price for the Aussie; that's one mouth-waterin' bloomin' onion they got there.

Irresistible

As I stand in front of my full-length mirror, I can't help but worry about what the others will think of my appearance. Will Cameron think that my shoes are too expensive, which makes me a materialistic snob? She's a woman on a mission to save the world, and I'd imagine that she could think of a good half million or so things to do with the money. Will Foreman think that my khakis, blue dress shirt and tie pale in comparison to the expensive suit that he has worn? He's the most ambitious of us, what with all of his walking the walk and talking the talk. And dressing the, uh, dress? I could care less. A doctor isn't measured by the clothes he wears. If he was, why does House still have a job? Which brings me to my last concern as I self-consciously gaze a my appearance, who gazes back with pale blue eyes and hair that's to die for; will House think this tie makes me look gay? Sure, it's pink, but it goes with the blue nicely if you ask me, _and_ it was expensive, just like the shoes. Besides, pink is the new black these days…House can eat it for all I care.

Convinced that I look as neat as possible, I open the door and walk out into my picture perfect world, breathe in the fresh morning air, and set out to do what I was born to do. And by that, I am not referring to being a doctor, but to my one true and constant talent, the one that none of the others can even hold a candle to, the very thing that makes me whole and gives me a place in this world; being irresistibly sexy.

It's true. I don't deny the fact that God put me on this earth for the sole purpose of striking Abercrombie-esque poses and looking ravishingly handsome 24/7. We can't all be rocket scientists or brilliant doctors like House. The world needs beauty, and in this town, it comes in the form of one Robert Chase. Sure, I went to med school, and now I'm working for a big shot doctor who hand picked me to work for him, but even I realize the sad truth in my situation. Never, in all my life, will I ever be as smart or objective as Foreman, and I know for certain that I won't ever rise to the level of selflessness that Cameron has risen to. And of course, none of us can compare to House, so I won't even bother. The simple fact is that my single specialty is being mind-numbingly gorgeous, and for that, I am truly thankful.

My Mini Cooper greets me with an affectionate "bloop bloop" when I press the unlock button. It even winks its little lights at me. See, even the car is attracted to me. I climb in, careful not to tousle my carefully styled hair, and pull off down the road. It's a lovely day, and I'd like to be able to put down my window and feel the cool spring breeze, but the havoc it would wreak on my hair is just unimaginable. I settle instead for the comfort of the AC, and flip on the radio to the news. I navigate the course to work by habit, listening intently to the stock report. The DOW Jones is up, and my stocks are as high as they've ever been. I smile, a brilliant one full of teeth, and think happily to myself about the stocks, glad that this is not turning out to be one of my high blood pressure days. The last time one of my stocks plummeted, I was sick all day with worry. What if it tanked completely? I couldn't afford to lose any more money on the stock market than I already had. But today? No such feeling. Numbers were high, my spirits higher.

Pulling into the gigantic parking lot at the hospital, I search for a space close to the building, even though I know there won't be one. Up near the front, I'm just slightly surprised to see House's motorcycle parked in one of the handicapped spots. It's only eight thirty, much too early for him to be in. That could only mean one thing: a new case. I groan out loud at the thought, wishing I'd listened to my father all those years ago when he told me to stay in Australia. It's not that I dislike my job, or helping people, it's just that these cases House finds are so damn complicated. I never feel like I'm contributing much when Cameron and Foreman argue about the minute intricacies of some disease that no one has ever heard of. I don't know where they went to school, but where I went, they didn't make us memorize entire medical dictionaries.

Finding a space near the back, I park, my Mini "bloop bloop"ing at me again when I lock the doors, and head towards the building. There's a slight breeze, and I make sure to keep my head turned into it; it was one thing to show up late, but a completely different disaster to show up with bad hair. Making it through the front doors with minimal damage, I head to the elevator, just catching it before the door closed. It's crowded, but a high school age girl immediately makes room for me when she sees me approach; yet another advantage to being young and beautiful. Girls just swoon at the sight of you, and you learn to manipulate the hell out of people using looks alone. The elevator dings, and I step off, throwing the girl a charming grin as I go by. She blushes, and I know that my work here is done.

I stride purposely down the hall towards House's office, checking out my reflection in the glass as I walk past. I swing the door open and enter as though it's the beginning of a fashion show, and nod at everyone in the room.

"Good morning all." I say in my thick, thick accent, the kind that has made more than one girl fall head over heels for me. Cameron nods back and smiles a tired smile, trying not to look like she's thrilled to see me. I know it's only an act though. She wants me more than anything else in this world. Our one night together was incredible, and after one taste, she wants more. But she'll never admit it. I almost regret telling her that it couldn't be; she's absolutely gorgeous. Maybe in the future we'll have some sort of chance to be together. But not now. Our careers are too important, what with her being a doctor and me being irresistible. They're both full time jobs, unfortunately.

Foreman gives me a smile, and some paranoid half of my mind knows that he is comparing suits, thinking how shameful it is for me to go around so under-dressed. I'm right; he has worn a very nice suit, probably Armani from the looks of it.

Crossing over to the coffee pot, I fill a clean cup and ask curiously, "Where's House?"

Foreman rolls is eyes, and answers, "Said he had to take a leak, but he's been gone for ten minutes now." He takes a sip from his own coffee, looks up at me from his chair, and immediately spits the coffee back into the cup, choking. Cameron sits up, immediately alert. "Are you alright?" Foreman nods, and I can tell he is trying not to laugh about something. Confused, I ask "Wot?" (spelled in australian here). He only shakes his head and manages to sit up, teary eyed and more mirthful than I've seen him in a long time. Cameron looks as confused as I'm sure I do, then meets my eyes, looking for some indication as to what has caused Foreman's fit. Her face freezes, and she looks away quickly, busying herself with cleaning up the coffee that Foreman had spilled. I shrug and take a seat, not too concerned with things. Foreman stops choking, and I am about to ask just what in the hell is wrong with him when House bursts through the door carrying a tray of breakfast. Of course, it's only enough for him, none for the rest of us. He gives me a mock cheery smile. "Glad you decided to join us Doctor Chase." And without waiting for a reply from me, he launches into his new case.

"Thirty five year old male, history of heart trouble, has a massive aneurism, simultaneously losing liver function." He grabs the dry erase marker and takes a step towards the board, looking to us expectantly. "What's the differential for that?"

We all frown at once, thinking hard. Cameron speaks up first. "There isn't one." She says, puzzled. And then it starts. She begins making suggestions, Foreman shoots them down, House scoffs at one here or there, and I sit quietly, hoping that no one will call on me. They go back and forth almost too quickly for me to keep up with. Instead of trying, I lean forward in my chair, putting on my "thinking really hard" face, and zone, managing to catch my reflection in the glass door. Making sure it only looks like I'm scratching my head in puzzlement over the case, I fix the one or two strands of hair that have managed to escape their places. And this is what goes on. For the next hours or so, they throw ideas around, contradicting each other, consulting the history they have, and looking in my direction only rarely, when my field of expertise comes up. Luckily, these are questions that I can answer, but as soon as I have, I return to my zone, wishing the day would be over so that I could go home and take a bath. However, with all of life's ups, there are guaranteed to be some downs. I am the very embodiment of physical beauty, but at the present, my body is stuck at this hospital, contributing very little to the differential diagnosis of our newest patient. I'm more than aware of the fact that House could get by just fine without me. I know that most of my suggestions are useless, and that House is far happier with me when I am silent. But I can live with these things. I am a good doctor, just not a super doctor like these guys. My capabilities lie elsewhere, as earlier stated, in the field of looking striking and magnificent. Sometimes, I wonder if that's the only reason that House keeps me around. But even if it is, that's okay. If that's what makes me worth keeping around, I'm fine with that. It's great to know that you are admired for being handsome. Foreman and Cameron may not admire me for anything else, but at least I have this, my infallible capability for being simply irresistible. Flawless, if you will. Not a thing that I'd change about these perfect features. They are perfection at its most perfect if I do say so myself. I don't even have to try. I have only to open my eyes each morning and breathe, and the rest just happens. It's like magic, the way that –

"Chase!" House's yelling has disturbed my thoughts, and startled, I turn my innocent eyes on him questioningly, wondering how many times he called my name before I heard. He frowns, and shakes his head.

"You have a booger."

The End

Ha. Poor Chase. When it's all he has left, even beauty lets him down. Makes a girl want to go and comfort him somehow. R & R. Thanks.

- A. D.


End file.
